


It Doesn't Matter

by Hopeishope



Category: SF9 (Band)
Genre: Binseong, Fluff and Angst, M/M, One Shot, my mutual inspired me to write this so be mad at them not me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:15:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23893675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopeishope/pseuds/Hopeishope
Summary: Inseong can see how many days people have left to live, but he only really cares about how many days a very specific person he knows has left.
Relationships: Kim Inseong/Kim Youngbin
Comments: 13
Kudos: 39





	It Doesn't Matter

**Author's Note:**

> This was an extremely impulse decision pls read at your own risk

It was December when the car hit a patch of ice and swerved off the road. Inseong was only a small child, so the exact date was lost somewhere in his memory, but that was a very important day for him. It wasn’t his car, nor did it belong to anyone he knew. The accident only held any significance to him because his parents had pulled over and jumped out to help. He was told to stay in the car, but Inseong seldom listened to vague instructions like that. He saw the bodies being pulled from the car, the number 0 displayed over each and every one of their heads. 

That day in December was the day Inseong learned what the numbers meant.

His mistake, said as if he had only ever made one he truly regretted, was telling his best friend. They had been seven years old when Inseong had grabbed Youngbin’s hand and pulled him up into the attic, locking the door behind them. “I know what the numbers mean,” he had told him, wide eyed and scared. Youngbin had blinked at him back then, as if he never expected the numbers to be anything more than insignificant digits. “It counts how many days people have left until they die.”

“Wait, really?!” Youngbin had asked, his jaw falling open as he gaped at his friend. “Inseong, how many days do I have left?”

It wasn’t a small number, but the realization in Inseong’s head that Youngbin’s number wasn’t as big as several other peoples’ made his throat swell up. “It doesn’t matter,” he ended up telling him. That became the normal response.

Youngbin asked again a few months later when his child-crush had rejected him, saying his number  _ had _ to be at zero now because he was going to die right then and there from embarrassment. Inseong had laughed, shaken his head, and replied “it doesn’t matter.”

He asked a lot, actually. It wasn’t like he asked every few weeks, but the question would pop up every few months or so. It would just come up at random, fitting into no conversation topic and instead just appearing out of nowhere. Inseong looked at his number every time, as if he didn’t already know what it would be by heart, and smiled. “It doesn’t matter.”

Youngbin, actually, was the only person who knew what Inseong could see. He had told his parents about the numbers when he was a kid, but after realizing they too would ask how many days they had left, Inseong decided it was best to just keep it to himself. He stopped bringing up the numbers and instead played it off as some childish antic. That didn’t mean he ignored them, though. 

Him and Youngbin often talked about them. Youngbin knew how long most of the kids at their school had left, but none of his friends. Inseong was always extremely careful about mentioning the numbers of people Youngbin knew and cared about. When they went out together and took walks, Inseong would sometimes make off-handed comments about the people they passed. Sure, it was gruesome, but it was a coping method, he figured. That’s what Youngbin told him, at least.

Youngbin was obsessed with psychology, and that was very much due to Inseong’s ability. Ever since he was a kid he had looked into similar cases (of which there were none) and tried to decipher patterns with the numbers (of which there were none). So when Youngbin told him talking about the numbers was like a coping method for Inseong to be able to mentally handle it all, he had no problem believing him, and was honestly just thankful someone had told him that so he didn’t feel like as much of an asshole. 

On their final day of highschool, Youngbin asked again, “how many days do I have left?” At this point, he knew he wasn’t going to get an answer, but Inseong knew the boy had other intentions. Youngbin, after knowing Inseong for his entire life, had his behavioral tells figured out to the cross on a T. He assumed Youngbin no longer asked to find an answer, but rather to gauge Inseong’s reaction. Inseong looked up at his number again. 1614. That wasn’t much more than four years now. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Please tell me I at least get through college, because I don’t want to do all of this shit if I’m gonna bite it in a year and a half,” Youngbin joked, but it didn’t really make Inseong feel like laughing. He snorted to cover up the truth. 

“Just go get your degree,” he told him with a laugh, bumping his shoulder. “It doesn’t matter. But hey! If you lose touch with me I’ll end you sooner than a year and a half, I promise!”

The problem with Inseong’s ability was that he couldn’t see numbers through pictures or videos. College passed in a blur. Inseong and Youngbin, now attending different universities, video chatted most nights and texted on those they couldn’t. Inseong never forgot Youngbin’s number, though, making sure he talked to him as much as he possibly could. Four years seemed like a long time, but really it was nothing compared to an entire lifetime. Inseong was determined to keep Youngbin by his side that entire time. He wouldn’t break down. He couldn’t let Youngbin know. 

It was another three years before Youngbin asked again. Inseong felt a lump forming in his throat, thankful that Youngbin had asked him over text instead of video chat. 490.

_ It doesn’t matter _ .

And after replying to that text, Inseong collapsed in his bed and cried. He cried until his pillow was soaked with tears and he couldn’t feel his throat anymore. 490 was such a small number. Youngbin deserved a bigger number. Some people had numbers as high as 35 thousand, but Youngbin only had 490. It wasn’t fair, it just wasn’t fucking fair. 

Inseong had prepared himself for the day he would see Youngbin again in person. They had agreed to finally meet up again the day after they both graduated, at the park in their old hometown. Inseong had prepared himself for days, engraving the number he would see hovering above Youngbin’s head in his mind until he could see it in his sleep. He couldn’t lose it in front of Youngbin, not after everything. 

It didn’t matter, though. Nothing could have prepared him for Youngbin running at him with the biggest smile in the world, arms wide open, with the number 134 floating over his head. Inseong felt his chest burning at the sight, but it didn’t matter. Having Youngbin in front of him again was what mattered. Holding Youngbin tightly in his arms for the next 134 days was the only thing that Inseong cared about. 

They walked down the streets as the sun set that night, hand in hand as they just enjoyed each other by their side. “I was thinking,” Youngbin mumbled, turning to him and pulling him to a stop. “I mean… life is… short, right?”

“I… I mean…” Inseong stuttered uselessly before shaking his head to clear his head. Damn Youngbin and his damn psychology major. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Right?” Youngbin agreed with a nod, clearly having expected that answer after having received it so many times. “So… I was… I was thinking. I mean… most people hold back from doing things because they think they’ll regret it for the rest of their lives, right? But… if life is short then there’s not really much time to regret doing things. I think it’d be worse to regret not doing them actually.”

“Where are you going with this?” Inseong asked, furrowing his eyebrows as Youngbin took both of his hands. 

“If life is short,” Youngbin began to explain in a quiet voice. “Then I don’t want to regret not doing this.” He moved forward slowly, pushing himself up onto the tips of his toes and pressing his lips gently against Inseong’s. The air around them stilled as the whole thing processed in Inseong’s head, and it seemed it took a bit too long for him to react, because Youngbin backed down and lifted his hand to the back of his neck, rubbing awkwardly at it. 

“Finally,” Inseong pushed out, stepping towards Youngbin with one big stride and kissing him back. It wasn’t because Inseong wanted to make him feel comfortable for the rest of his 134 days, but honestly because Inseong had been wishing for that to happen since he was probably fifteen. Younger him suppressed that crush on his best friend because he was scared of hurting himself in the future, but Inseong as he was now didn’t give two shits and just wanted to kiss Youngbin again and again.

It was when the number above Youngbin’s head reached 100 that Inseong finally began to panic. He hoped Youngbin hadn’t noticed, but honestly he had always sucked at lying to that boy. Youngbin had asked oh-so-coincidentally how many days he had left, but Inseong hadn’t even hesitated before responding with his typical “it doesn’t matter.” he grabbed Youngbin’s hands with a smile and pulled him along until they reached the playground. It was close to midnight now, since Inseong had suggested they take a walk so late at night, so that meant it was empty. They played on the playground like kids for an hour, just laughing with each other, until Inseong finally revealed the ice cream sandwiches he brought, kept cool inside a tiny lunchbox he had hidden earlier. 

On day 98, Inseong took Youngbin out on a date to a tiny cafe he loved. They ordered his favorite cookie, which was actually no longer on the menu. Inseong, however, knew the girl behind the counter since they were kids, and asked her for a favor. Of course, it costed more money, but money was hardly something Inseong cared about at this point. He just wanted to make Youngbin happy. 

It was weird when, on day 91, Youngbin asked again. “How many days do I have left.”

Inseong sipped at his boba tea as they walked. “You never ask twice within such a short period. What’s wrong?” he asked, trying to conceal his innermost fear that Youngbin had figured it out.

Youngbin scoffed. “Oh? Did I ask a few days ago, too? I must have forgotten.”

Inseong nodded, not really buying it. “It doesn’t matter anyways.”

With 86 days left, Inseong invited Youngbin over for a movie night at his place. It turned into a night full of cuddling, but Inseong preferred that anyways. He held Youngbin in his arms the whole night, ignoring the sensation of his arm falling asleep under Youngbin’s head. It was worth it.

On day 79, Youngbin invited Inseong out to a drive-in movie, and like every other couple parked in the lot, they just ended up making out for the duration of the movie. Inseong was fine with that, and Youngbin had started it so he must have been fine with it, too. 

On day 73 Youngbin gave him that whole “life is short” speech again before convincing Inseong to come with him to get his hair lightened. Well, Inseong wouldn’t say he had to be convinced. He jumped on board with the idea the second Youngbin mentioned it and went with him to get it dyed. He, of course, took several goofy pictures while Youngbin’s head was wrapped in foil, which he refused to delete. He hoped Youngbin hadn’t noticed Inseong’s more-than-usual insisting that they take pictures together. He explained it as wanting a collection of beautiful pictures of his boyfriend so he could brag to all his college friends, but that was not the reason. It certainly wasn’t  _ wrong _ per-say, because Inseong did enjoy bragging about him, but it just wasn’t the real reason Inseong insisted on taking so many pictures. 

On day 62, Youngbin asked again. “How many days do I have left?”

Inseong shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, and you keep asking!” He was getting better at faking smiles and joking around about the subject in front of the boy, that was for sure. Of course, his stomach felt a bit tighter every time he looked at the cursed number, but at least it didn’t show as much as it definitely used to, which he hoped wasn’t a lot to begin with.

At this point, Inseong started actually using his head. If he wanted to spend day 0 entirely with Youngbin, he would have to have a good excuse or the boy would get suspicious. The last thing he wanted was for Youngbin to know it was coming, even if he himself was burdened with that knowledge. So Inseong was going to have to do a fake-out… or two. Or maybe three.

“We should hang out all day on the fifth,” Inseong suggested, taking Youngbin’s hand in his. 

Youngbin looked at him with big eyes. “The fifth? Why the fifth?”

“Just because,” Inseong tested with a shrug. The fifth was day 55, and the real reason Inseong chose that day was because there was a fair a few districts down, and Inseong had every intention to make Youngbin ride the ferris wheel with him. It was obvious, throughout the whole day, that Youngbin was a bit on edge. Inseong wanted to curse at his damn psychology major for figuring it out, but it was obvious. 

Youngbin knew, without a doubt, that he did not have much time left. 

On top of the ferris wheel, when it was stopped at its peak, Youngbin sighed. “Why specifically today? The fair runs for three days.”

Inseong shrugged. “You have work tomorrow and I have work the day after. It was the most convenient, and I wanted to surprise you!”

He knew it was coming before Youngbin even asked. “How many days do I have left?”

Inseong moved across the seat, taking Youngbin’s hand in his own and kissing him softly. “It doesn’t matter.”

Youngbin insisted that he wanted to have a sleepover that night, and Inseong was more than happy to agree. He wanted to spend as much time as possible with the boy anyways, but just after getting home it was very obvious Youngbin had more on his mind than just cuddling. Inseong was fine with that, too. Waking up next to Youngbin, cuddled against him, was one of the best feelings in the world. 

On day 45, Inseong took Youngbin to a street fair for cheap food and good music. Youngbin made Inseong dance with him in front of an entire crowd, but he was fine with it as long as Youngbin was still smiling. He asked again on their way home. “How many days do I have left?”

Inseong didn’t look up at his number this time, though he definitely should have, because Youngbin definitely noticed. “It doesn’t matter.”

On day 40, Inseong planned another fake out. He didn’t want Youngbin to expect it, even if he already was. It was the only thing Inseong wanted, and if he had to run himself dry to make it happen he would. He said nothing more than he wanted to go on a date with Youngbin all day on the 30th of the month. Coincidentally, that was also day 30 for Youngbin. 

He didn’t have anything specific planned, rather he just ended up taking Youngbin wherever he wanted. Youngbin kept asking why the date was specific, but Inseong lied and said he had been planning ahead after looking at their schedules. Youngbin asked again, “how many days do I have left?” and Inseong gave the same answer he always gave: “it doesn’t matter.”

To Inseong, though, it did matter. It mattered a  _ lot _ . Thirty days was only a month. Youngbin… only had one month left. 

Inseong tried not to make it obvious, but he seriously couldn’t bring himself to leave Youngbin’s side. Youngbin never once complained about it, and even made the comment that he was glad Inseong was so clingy so he didn’t have to worry about being clingy himself. He slept over Youngbin’s house more than he even saw his own bed, and his new favorite thing to do was grab Youngbin’s hand at every single opportunity. Youngbin’s new favorite thing, it seemed, was to wrap his arms around Inseong’s waist and lean his head against his chest. Inseong was glad that was Youngbin’s new favorite thing because personally, he liked holding Youngbin in his arms like that. 

On day 15, Inseong began to panic a little bit more than he would have liked to show. The days were going by too fast and no matter how hard he tried, he could never prepare himself for waking up to see the number above Youngbin’s head one digit lower. What was even more worrisome was that Youngbin stopped asking how many days he had left. Inseong, instead, sat waiting for the question to pop up, but it seemed Youngbin no longer had to ask to get his answer. Inseong was making it too obvious. 

On day 11, while Inseong was holding Youngbin against his chest in bed, Youngbin told Inseong this: “life really is short, but I’m glad I’m spending it with you.” Inseong really  _ really _ tried not to cry, but it wasn’t working. Youngbin didn’t comment on it, and Inseong figured since Youngbin already knew, it was only more worrisome if he held back his tears. He didn't start outright crying, rather he just sat there and held Youngbin closer to him as tears streamed down his cheeks. 

On day 10, Inseong went to a store down the street from the center of town and bought two rose gold promise rings. That night, in the midst of trying not to burst out crying, he slipped one on Youngbin’s finger. “Life is short,” he told him with a choked up voice. “I wanna spend the rest of it with you.”

That time, Youngbin cried. They held each other in their arms, an unspoken truth lying between them. Youngbin kissed him a lot that night, mumbling in between each kiss that he loved Inseong more than life itself. Long after Youngbin had fallen asleep, Inseong stayed awake holding him in his arms, silently crying and wishing to wake up to see a new number above Youngbin’s head. 

When he woke up, it was day 9.

On day 7, Youngbin asked if Inseong had ever wanted to get a tattoo. When Inseong told him yes, Youngbin asked if Inseong wanted to get one with him. Of course, Inseong said yes. The tattoos came out really well. First, they had recorded themselves saying “I love you” and had then asked the artist to tattoo the audio recording lines on the inside of their left arms. Forever, until he would die, Inseong would have Youngbin saying “I love you” tattooed on the inside of his arm, and no matter what he couldn’t bring himself to be anything but happy about it. 

On day 5, Inseong finally decided it wasn’t worth it to ask Youngbin to spend all day with him when they already did that anyways. He wouldn’t give Youngbin any extra hints.

On day 3 they had another movie night. Inseong held onto Youngbin like he would never let him go and Youngbin linked their fingers together like he would never pull away. “Inseong,” he asked softly as the third movie came to an end. “How many days do I have left?”

Inseong didn’t want to cry. He didn’t want to let Youngbin know how short life really was, but he couldn’t stop them as the tears overwhelmed his eyes. Instead of answering, he just collapsed. He buried his head into Youngbin’s neck and cried like a baby until he couldn’t feel his throat anymore. Youngbin held onto him tightly, but it didn’t change the number hovering above his head. 

“Inseong, I love you.”

“I love you more,” Inseong told him through his tears, sniffling as he tried to compose himself, but it didn’t do anything to help. 

“I love you more than life itself, remember that.”

And again, Inseong succumbed to a fit of sobs. He fell asleep first like that, curled up in Youngbin’s arms with his cheeks stained with tears. He woke up on day 2 to the smell of pancakes. Youngbin had gotten up early to cook for the two of them. Inseong felt like he should have been the one cooking for Youngbin, but the boy looked so content to be able to make him pancakes that he just shut himself up and pulled his phone out. He took a ton of videos of him joking while Youngbin laughed, trying to focus on cooking without flinging the pancakes out of the pan each time he had to stifle a laugh. 

On day 1, it snowed for the first time that winter. It had been getting colder, but it hadn’t showed any signs of snowing, yet. Youngbin pulled Inseong outside in nothing but sweatpants and a t-shirt to play around in the snow, and it didn’t matter how numb Inseong’s fingers went, he just wanted the moment to last for years. 

Inseong was a mess the next day. He woke up to an empty bed and panicked, running out of the room and right into Youngbin’s chest. The boy had only gotten up to use the bathroom, but Inseong didn’t care. He didn’t want Youngbin away from his side for even a second. He cried not even a minute after waking up, curling his arms around Youngbin’s shoulders. 

It was snowing all day, and Inseong wanted nothing more than to stay inside with Youngbin all day. He didn’t want to do anything or go anywhere, but when Youngbin got the call that Youngbin was needed at the office for an emergency, Inseong knew that wasn’t a possibility. 

“Please don’t go,” Inseong had begged, trying so,  _ so _ hard to hold back his tears, but just failing miserably as Youngbin stood in front of him with a content smile on his face. 

“Inseong… how many days do you have left to live?”

Inseong had opened his mouth to give Youngbin the same answer he always gave him, when he froze. He met Youngbin’s caring eyes with parted lips and no words to give him. “Huh?”

“You told me once, a long time ago, when we were still kids, that you could see your own number in the mirror. After you figured out what the numbers meant, you started lying and said you couldn’t see your own number. Inseong… how many days do you have left to live?”

Inseong closed his eyes, pressing the crown of his head against Youngbin’s shoulder as he pulled him close. There was no point in lying anymore, right? It wasn’t worth lying. “I have about eighteen thousand days left,” he pushed out, his voice sounding cracked and broken.

“Good,” Youngbin told him, his voice suddenly sounding a bit less clear than it had before. “Do you… do you want to come with me? I know waiting in the car might be boring but-”

“I want to come,” Inseong told him with a nod, sniffling as he pulled Youngbin closer to him. “Please let me come.”

“Okay,” Youngbin agreed, taking his hand. “But you’re letting me drive.”

“No,” Inseong denied immediately, shaking his head. “Absolutely not.”

“Well I’m not letting you drive,” Youngbin told him sternly. “So if you want to come… you have to let me drive.”

Youngbin insisted on driving with one hand. Inseong scolded him so many times, saying how dangerous that was when the snow was so thick, but nothing he said could convince Youngbin not to drive with one hand while holding his hand with his other. “It doesn’t matter,” Youngbin told him simply, a genuinely content smile gracing his lips as he squeezed Inseong’s hand. He drove slow, but it wouldn’t matter. 

As they drove in silence, Inseong having no idea what he was even supposed to talk about, Youngbin smiled, squeezing his hand again. “You know…” he began, turning the wheel gently with the curve of the road. “You were right.”

“About what?” Inseong asked, turning to face him. Youngbin never dropped that smile from his face.

“It doesn’t matter how many days I have left,” Youngbin told him, his eyes never leaving the road in front of him. “I got to spend them all with you like this, and because of that, I don’t regret them.”

Inseong teared up, but didn’t reply as Youngbin continued driving. 

“Remember what I told you, Inseong.”

Inseong sniffed, nodding. “You- you love me more- more than life itself,” he stuttered through his tears. 

Youngbin nodded, his smile growing a bit. “I do,” he confirmed with a gentle voice. “Say it again.”

Inseong nodded, not even able to see the dashboard in front of him anymore from how clouded his eyes were with tears. “You- you love me- more than- more than life itself.”

“Keep saying it, Inseong,” Youngbin told him quickly through a stuffed up voice.

“You love me… more than life itself,” Inseong repeated, closing his eyes tightly as he squeezed Youngbin’s hand. “You…  _ I _ love you… more than life itself…”

Day 0 was a cold December day. And on that day, of which Inseong will never forget the date of, the car hit a patch of ice and swerved off the road. He would never forget opening his eyes as he laid, completely still, with flurries of snow falling around him. That was the day Youngbin’s number finally stopped changing.


End file.
